Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects. Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

****Part 7Chapter Three

Bonnie counted the money as Rosalyn and Micah started the process of tearing down the sale. Only one small shoebox was left of Rosalyn’s trinkets.

“So, what’s the final tally?,” asked Rosalyn, once Micah left to retrieve the garage sale signs from the corner.

“Give me just a sec,” said Bonnie as she counted the last few quarters. “Alright, are you ready for this? You made $2,845.72. Now, how much did you spend?”

“Not anywhere close to that.”

“Ros, I need you to be straight with me. I’m beginning to think you might have a real problem.” Bonnie squeezed her friend’s arm.

“Fine. I spent $575 dollars, or thereabouts, to make this happen.”

Bonnie’s eyebrows raised but she kept her lips closed tight.

“Bonnie, that means I made a profit. You can’t argue that.” Rosalyn said, flipping over a table and kicking closed one of the metal legs.

“Nope. You can’t.”

Micah walked up the drive, signs in hand. The sun was behind him, outlining his form and Rosalyn watched every move. He smiled at her and she instinctively smiled back.

“Can I take you out tonight for pizza-as a thank you for helping me today?,” Rosalyn asked him. He set the signs in the yard and shook his head.

“No, I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

She felt kicked in the chest.

“Oh, ok. I just thought…,” she stammered out. He chuckled.

“I want to take you out. I know you’ve recently come into some money,” he paused and stepped closer and she felt his breath on her cheek. “But, being the old fashioned man that I am-I’m taking you out-for pizza, or whatever your heart desires.”

Rosalyn’s skin turned hot and her palms started to sweat.

“I can be ready in less than an hour.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back here in an hour.”

Micah walked back down the drive, waving at her over his shoulder. Rosalyn watched him until he was out of sight.

“What was that all about?,” asked Bonnie.

“I just got asked out on a date.” A grin spread across Rosalyn’s face. Bonnie followed suit.

“We’d better get you ready. I’m so glad this was the last sale,” said Bonnie as she stretched and yawned. “I have a date tonight with my couch, Audrey Hepburn and some popcorn.”

They carried the last table inside and said their goodbye’s. Rosalyn locked the door after Bonnie and made her way to the shower. She flipped on the faucet, allowing the water to warm up, and heard a knock on the door.

Tying her robe around her, she tiptoed towards the front door. Rosalyn glanced out of the peephole, and spied the man in the cheap suit again.

“I’m sorry, but the sale’s over,” she said from behind the closed door.

“Ma’am, you haven’t called me yet,” the suit said.

“Sir, I’m not about to call some stranger that showed up at my garage sale.”

“I would advise that you do,” he said, unbuttoning his jacket and sticking his hands on his hips. A holster and gun were easily visible.

“I’m in a real hurry to get somewhere. I need you to go away, or I might have to call the cops,” Rosalyn’s heart pounded.

“I’ll go away-for now,” the suit re-buttoned his jacket. He stood a moment longer, turned on his heel and left.

***

Micah arrived exactly one hour later. Even a t-shirt and jeans looked remarkable on him.

“I just need to grab a shawl, in case it gets cold,” she said. “Help yourself to something to drink.”

Rosalyn labored over whether the ivory or pink shawl better complemented her light blue summer dress. She decided on the pink and returned to the kitchen.

“You look fantastic,” Micah locked eyes with her.

Rosalyn curtsied and giggled.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said bowing low. Micah chuckled and bowed back to her.

“Are you ready for your dinner, fair maiden?”

“Certainly. Shall we make haste?,” she said, feeling rather silly.

“Your carriage awaits.” Micah ushered her out the door.

Rosalyn loved that he played along with her so readily. Kyle always thought her random antics not amusing. Micah unlocked her door and then went around to the driver’s side.

As they backed out of the driveway, Rosalyn noticed a black sedan a few hundred yards to the north of her that started its engine. She watched in her mirror as the lights flicked on and it pulled out right behind them.

“So, where are we going?,” she said, trying to shake off her paranoia.

“I thought instead of pizza, we could go to a really great sushi restaurant.”

Rosalyn kept her eyes on the sedan as it took one turn after another right behind them.

“Is sushi ok?,” Micah asked.

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I love sushi,” she responded.

“Great. It’s one of my favorite places in town to eat. I’d love to finally share it with someone,” he patted her knee and turned on some music.

She loved his hand on her knee. You stupid sedan-why don’t you go away and leave us alone?

Micah parked the car a few minutes later and she watched as the sedan trolled in, headlights off, behind them. Whoever you are, you aren’t very sneaky.

“Are you ok? You seem a little distracted,” Micah looped his arm through his as they walked to the restaurant.

“I’m sorry, Micah. It’s been a long day.” Rosalyn glanced over her shoulder and watched as the suit got out of the sedan.

“I understand. Let’s get some food in you. That’ll help,” he squeezed her arm. She loved the warmth of his skin on her bare arm.

Micah was greeted at the front door by the owner with a bear hug and two pats on his back. Each staff member they passed on their way to their corner booth, smiled and waved at him. Immediately, green tea was brought and Micah poured her a tiny cup.

“You are a bit of a celebrity here, aren’t you?” Rosalyn sipped from her cup.

“This place got me through college. Great food, quiet atmosphere and they let me study for hours,” he said, pouring more tea into the tiny cup. “And, they always let me drink as much tea as I could handle.”

The owner approached their table, smiling from ear to ear.

“Micah, it’s good to have you back. And to see you with such a fine woman,” the old man said with a thick accent as he patted Rosalyn’s hand.

“He’s a great man. I would be proud to call him my son.” The owner puffed out his chest and raised his chin skyward.

“Oh, Kim. You just love me because I love your ‘special sushi’,” Micah laughed and the old man joined in.

“True, true. Not many white people like my ‘special sushi’. Now, what will it be tonight?,” the old man grabbed his pad of paper and a tiny pencil and started scribbling even before Micah had spoken.

“Why don’t you surprise us?,” Micah laughed. “I know you will even if I didn’t ask.”

The old man scurried off, yelling at the chefs and pointing his fingers in all directions. Just as Rosalyn turned her attention back to Micah, the bell on the front door jingled and the suit walked in. He was sat just a few tables away, with only one other couple between them.

Rosalyn started to whisper to Micah, when the old man returned with a dish full of something light gray and jiggly.

“Now, pretty lady, you try this. It may look awful, but it’s good.” He placed it on the table and was off again.

Micah laughed and picked up his chopsticks.

“It’s squid and it’s best dipped in this,” he pointed to a dish in the center of the plate.

Rosalyn dipped her first piece into the sauce, excited to try something new. For a moment she forgot about the suit. He coughed loudly and looked in her direction. Micah had his back to the suit and was busy explaining the next dish to her when the suit approached their table.

“Excuse me,” he said as he straightened his tie. “I’m not from around here and wondered what you would recommend. I saw how well you were getting along with the owner.”

“Of course. I would try I-9, which is mostly vegetables. But, if you need something with a little more meat,” Micah paused, thinking, “I would recommend P-17, but tell Kim to tone down on the spice.”

“Thank you. Have a nice night,” the suit said and looked straight at Rosalyn. “Ma’am.”

The suit walked away and Rosalyn wondered how much a ‘concealed carry’ license might cost.

“Micah,” she whispered and scooted closer to him. This made him smile and he scooted closer to her. “That man was at my garage sale, came back afterwards and pounded on my door, followed us here and is now eating at the same restaurant.”

Micah grew solemn, he looked over his shoulder, his forehead creasing.

“Who is he?,” he asked.

“I don’t know. He gave me his card and asked me to call him,” she whispered even more quietly. “His card said he was a federal investigator.”

“What does he want with you?,” Micah whispered back.

The old man brought out another dish, interrupting Rosalyn’s response. This time it was green and a little juicy.

“You like my squid?,” Kim smiled at Rosalyn.

“It’s delicious,” she said, forcing a smile.

“You don’t like it, do you?,” he frowned and hung his head.

“No, it’s wonderful, I promise.” Rosalyn mustered up her biggest smile. That seemed to satisfy him and he hustled back to the kitchen, barking out more orders.

“I have no idea what he wants. But he’s giving me the creeps.” She finally whispered back.

Micah took a few more bites of the squid and then moved on to the green pile. He sighed and scratched at his head.

“Well, why don’t I just go and ask?” He got up and threw his napkin on the table.

Micah began the conversation with his arms folded, but soon they were flying around int he air. The suit stood up and tore off his glasses. Rosalyn watched as they argued, both pointing at her from time to time. Micah suddenly calmed down as the suit pulled out his badge. After several more minutes, Micah returned to the table and the suit left. Micah sat down and was quiet.

“Well?,” Rosalyn finally broke the silence.

“He said there’s nothing he can tell me, other than that you’re under investigation.”

“Investigation?,” she shouted much too loudly. The other couple stared at her. “For what?”

“That’s what I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.” Micah took another bite, not looking her in the eye. “And he said you need to call him.”

“Micah, I promise that I have no idea what this is about.” She suddenly felt dirty.

“You should probably just call him. I’m sure it’s a mistake.”

“I’m sure it is too. The most illegal thing I’ve ever done is not use my turn signal.” Rosalyn laughed faintly.

“Is there anything else you can think of? Anything at all?”

“I’m a pet photographer, I live in my Grandma’s house, I have garage sales. I mean, what’s there to investigate?,” her eyes started to fill with tears. She wondered what Micah was thinking of her.

The green plate had hardly been touched when Kim returned with two small fried pockets of something. He ran off again, wiping his hands on the towel tied to his waste.

“Look, this won’t change the way I think about you. I’m just concerned there’s something going on that you don’t know about,” he grabbed her hand. “But somehow-you are involved.”

“I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” she said, thankful for his hand on hers. “Let’s not let this ruin our night.”

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects. Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

****Part 6Chapter Three

The espresso machine churned while Rosalyn stood to the side waiting for her chai tea. Bonnie already had her usual mocha and thumbed through a magazine, commandeering the last table in the coffee shop.

“Chai Tea for Rosalyn?” The barista slid the drink onto the counter towards Rosalyn and stared a little longer than normal. “Hey, didn’t you just have an amazing garage sale?”

“That might have been me,” Rosalyn smiled, happy to be remembered.

“I got two Chang belts there for $75,” the barista showed off one of the belts around her waist.

“That was definitely my sale then,” she said. “I’m going to have another one this Saturday. You should stop by again.”

“Will do,” the barista high-five’d the co-worker that had been listening in.

Rosalyn grabbed her tea and headed towards Bonnie-who was emphatically rolling her eyes.

“Seriously, Ros-another sale? You barely made any money on the last one.” Her friend sighed and then took a sip of her mocha. “You made twelve dollars. Total.”

“That sale was depressing, I’ll admit. But, namely because I had nothing there to create excitement. I have a plan and that’s why I bought this.” She pulled a Taute belt out of her shopping bag.

Bonnie choked on her drink, coughing for a few seconds.

“How much was that?” Her friend slammed her cup down onto the table, coffee sloshing out of the side.

“Keep your voice down. I got a great deal on it.” She whispered, aware of the eavesdropping baristas.

“How much?” Bonnie craned her neck to get a look at the price tag.

“It doesn’t matter how much. When I advertise this is at my sale, the real shoppers will come. Once the shoppers are there, they’ll buy all my other stuff and that will be that.” Rosalyn shoved the belt back into her bag.

“Meaning, that will be your last sale, right?”

“Of course. I just want to get rid of the stuff I didn’t sell last time, that’s all. And if I need to entice the customers a little, then so be it.” Rosalyn took a drink.

“Do the math, Ros. What you paid for that belt will not be covered by the profits on your trinkets.” Bonnie shook her head.

“You underestimate my sales ability. And, there will be doughnuts paid for by me for my helpers. Please?” She smiled at her best friend.

“This sounds like a terrible plan, but because I’m your friend and you are clearly going through something…I’m in.” Bonnie patted her friend’s hand. “This is your last sale, right?”

“Yeah, sure. This is the last time.” Rosalyn nodded but looked away.

“As long as there are doughnuts, then we have a deal.”

***

Rosalyn’s cell phone rang just as she returned home. She fished her phone out of her purse and let a hurried ‘hello’ just before the call went to voicemail.

Silence.

“Hello? Who is this, please?” She sighed.

“Oh, I thought I would get your voice mail. I was expecting you to be out with Bonnie or something,” he said. “I mean it is a Friday night.”

Rosalyn’s knees buckled underneath her, she grabbed the countertop in the kitchen for support.

Kyle.

“I just got home from spending time with her. How may I help you?” Rosalyn felt annoyed and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the counter.

“I stopped by earlier.”

Several seconds passed.

“What for?” Her voice cracked.

“There’s a lot of stuff that…” He heaved a sigh.

“…That you need to say to me?” Rosalyn could kick herself for finishing his sentence.

“No, there was a lot of stuff at my house that belonged to you. Gwennie asked me to get rid of it. I dropped it off while you were out.”

“Sure.” She fished a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her mascara.

“Promise me that this sale is the last one?”

“If this Saturday is just as bad as last weeks, then I won’t do another.” She was pleased with her ambiguous response.

“I guess that’s good enough. I’ll be there on Saturday and I’ll bring the doughnuts.” Her friend gave a quiet goodbye and hung up.

Rosalyn paced the kitchen floor, willing herself to go to the back porch. Finally, she made it to the back door and flung it open. Tissues in hand, Rosalyn sifted through the box. But instead of crying as she thought she might do, her mind became a calculator, tabulating all of the potential profits Kyle has just delivered her.

Rosalyn typed up descriptions for the new items and added to her listing two purses, a peacoat and several necklaces.

She climbed into bed much later than she had planned, exhausted. Her cell phone rang from across the room.

“Why didn’t I shut you off?” Rosalyn mumbled from her bed, frowning at the lit up phone lying on her dresser.

The caller gave up, the house becoming silent once again and soon, she fell asleep.

****

Rosalyn awoke on Saturday at 4:30 a.m. and immediately sprung into action. She decided to do the sale outside once again-even though it was raining.

She glanced at her cell phone, remembering the late night call, which read ‘One missed call from unknown number’. Rosalyn pressed the voice mail button, and heard clicking noises along with the sound of numbers being pressed. Weird, she thought. She hit the ‘delete’ button.

Rosalyn propped open the front door, bringing out boxes and placing them underneath the carport, away from the rain. She tried to ignore the cars idling on the street. The thermos drinkers were back. An old dodge truck signaled the others with two flashes of high beams. A brown Oldsmobile responded with the same.

She wished Bonnie would hurry. Rosalyn felt vulnerable with her front door open and her “products” unattended each time she headed back inside for more.

“Good morning,” said a voice from the street. She could hear the raindrops bouncing off the unidentified person’s parka.

“I don’t open until six,” she shouted through the rain.

“It looks to me like you could use a little help,” said the voice which sounded as if it were getting closer to her each second.

“Look, buddy. I know what scam you’re trying to pull offering to ‘help’ me. This isn’t my first sale,” she responded, backing up towards her house, reaching into her pocket.

“No, it most certainly isn’t,” Micah said, stepping underneath the carport and into the yellow beam cast from the porch light.

“Micah! You scared me half to death,” she smiled. “I was reaching for my pepper spray.”

“You have pepper spray? Good to know,” he said, holding his palms up. “I come in peace. Now, point me in the direction of the coffee, first and what you need brought out, second.”

She loved that he loved coffee. And that he was at her house at 4:45 a.m., in the rain, in a great mood and offering to help.

“Follow me. The coffee is hot and Bonnie will bring us doughnuts later.” Rosalyn curtsied dramatically, waving him towards the door.

After a quick cup of coffee, the pair got to work dragging out tables. Her “products” were more crammed than she would like underneath the carport, but she felt it would still present well. Micah lifted the hood on his parka and headed out with the garage sale signs-protecting them with clear trash bags.

“I’m a little bummed that the balloons I got last night won’t be put to good use,” Rosalyn said to Micah when he returned. “But, at least the rain is keeping the early shoppers in their cars and not on my lawn.”

He laughed and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair. After removing his parka and shaking it out, he sat down next to her and patted her knee.

“Don’t you worry about customers. I saw the entire street lined with cars all the way down to the corner,” he accepted the coffee mug she gave to him and sipped from the top.

Rosalyn watched his lips as they touched the cup, drawing the hot beverage into his mouth. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and she felt her skin turn hot. Micah smirked and took another drink from the cup. She searched her blank mind for something to say.

“So, where’s Spartan?”

Micah began to answer her, but was interrupted by their first customer. A man in a drenched trench coat barely looked around before approaching Rosalyn.

“I drove two hours to get here. I have to know, where do you buy the things you’re selling?” He removed and then wiped the rain from his glasses, leaving behind a marked indention on his giant nose.

“Well, I am flattered that you have come all this way, for my sale. But I can’t reveal my secrets.” Rosalyn said.

“It isn’t illegal is it?” He whispered, leaning in while adjusting his tie.

“Do I look like the type to commit a crime?” She laughed and looked at Micah.

“Anyone can commit a crime,” the guy with the glasses said. He held up the two purses Kyle had left the night before. “I’ll take these.”

“Your wife will be happy,” Rosalyn said, giving the man his change.

“I’m not married,” he said and huffed off.

“Okay, that was weird.” Micah said quietly as another customer approached, ready to make their purchase.

Rosalyn hardly stopped when Bonnie arrived with the doughnuts. She continued making sale after sale. Bonnie threw in Rosalyn’s trinkets from time to time to ‘sweeten the deal’ if someone was hedging on the final price, knowing if there was anything left over, Rosalyn might be tempted to do another sale.

“Thanks for the doughnuts, Bonnie.” Rosalyn took a quick bite before allowing someone to talk her down on the price of one of the Chang belts.

“My pleasure. I can’t believe how much you’ve already sold.” Bonnie said, looking inside the coffee can Micah held onto.

“It’s been a great morning so far. Hey-have you noticed if the news crew is back? Seven new ‘Mutt Shot’ clients called after seeing me on the news the last time.” Rosalyn beamed.

“That’s great, Ros.” Bonnie grinned. “I’m glad having these sales are actually bringing in some real business for you.”

“What do you mean ‘real business’. Isn’t this ‘real’?” Rosalyn gestured to the five different people currently shopping.

Bonnie and Micah snickered.

“Hey lady,” said a man that hadn’t bothered with an umbrella and was dripping on her table. “Where do you find all this stuff? Are these knock-off’s?”

“These are 100% the real thing,” Rosalyn answered, trying not to sound annoyed.

“It just seems too good to be true. These aren’t stolen or something?” The man continued dripping.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I just had to ask,” said the man, handing her two twenty dollar bills for one of the belts.

“These sales sure bring out the strangest of society,” said Bonnie as she polished off her bear claw.

“You think this is strange,” said Rosalyn as she bagged up a customer’s purchase. “You should see some of the emails I’ve received. Look at my phone and read the last two.”

Micah and Bonnie hovered over her phone.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” said Micah after reading the emails.

“There are some bizarre people out there,” Bonnie shook her head.

“And those were two of the nicer ones.” Rosalyn rearranged an empty space on the table as the rain began to let up. She checked her watch-10:15. “Time sure flies when you’re making money. How much have we made so far?”

Micah carefully pulled the money from the can and counted it, hiding himself behind a designer picnic basket, complete with crystal wine goblets. He whispered the amount to Bonnie-her eyes growing wide. Rosalyn watched from the other side of the carport.

“C’mon. I’m dying over here,” she said.

Bonnie tried signing to her friend the amount using her fingers. Rosalyn abandoned the table she was arranging, sure she misunderstood.

“What I just saw you sign to me was $1,272,” Rosalyn whispered.

“That is correct, dear,” Bonnie smiled at her friend. “Now, how much did you spend to make this happen?”

“Spend? What do you mean?,” asked Micah.

“I just bought a few things to prime the pump,” said Rosalyn. “I spent a couple hundred, I think.”
“You know exactly how much you spent, Ros.” Bonnie grabbed at her friend’s arm before she could pull away.

“I need to get back to rearranging the products,” she said and then gestured to Micah who was heavily involved with his second doughnut. “Can we talk about this later, please?”

“Sure,” sighed Bonnie.

Rosalyn pulled away from Bonnie, but was immediately stopped by a man dressed in a cheap suit.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” he said, pulling a business card from his inside pocket. “I need you to call me later this afternoon. I have a few questions for you.”

“And you are?,” Rosalyn said, accepting the card without looking at it.

“Let’s just say I’m someone that always gets the answers to his questions,” he said and walked away.

She watched him get into a black sedan and speed off. Rosalyn finally looked down at the business card. It read, Robert Stope, Federal Investigator, along with an 800 number.

“Who was that?,” Bonnie said, joining Rosalyn in the middle of the driveway.

Bonnie took the business card that Rosalyn offered her to look over.

“What in the world?,” Bonnie whispered. “What does a Federal Investigator want with you?”

“I have no idea,” she slowly answered her friend. “But, I’m not going to call him to find out either.”

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects.
Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

*****

Garage Sale Addict (Young Adults)

“Bonnie, guess what I just found for 75% off!,” Rosalyn whispered excitedly into her phone. She tucked the Van der Hoessen handbag into the bottom of her shopping cart and pushed her way down the aisle.

“What?”

“This season’s Van der Hoessen touring bag for only $355,” she said.

“Wow. What a deal,” Bonnie replied dryly. “And, since when do you care about name brands?”

“It’s not for me. I’m going to use it to lure back my customers for the next garage sale,” responded Rosalyn. “Oops, I’m to the front of the line. Gotta go.”

“This isn’t over,” said Bonnie. “We need to talk a little more about your strategy.”

Rosalyn made it home with the Van der Hoessen bag, a few Chang belts and the largest grand total she’d ever witnessed on one receipt. Guilt nagged at her as she looked at the total once again. Even with the 75% off and a coupon, she still spent more than she had made in the last two weeks.

“It’s my money and I can spend it however I want to,” she said aloud to no one. After photographing the items, Rosalyn posted them online with the headline, “Name Brand Garage Sale this Saturday only!”. She added descriptions to the items, directions to her house and her email address.

Looking at her watch, Rosalyn remembered she had a 4 ‘o clock appointment with an irish setter. She grabbed her camera bag, her keys and was back out the door. Her phone chimed as she backed out of the driveway, notifying her of a new email. Rosalyn decided to look at it later, turned on the radio and began humming along. The radio and her phone were soon having a battle of who could be the noisiest as one email after another made its way to her phone, dinging relentlessly at her. She clicked the radio off and drove the rest of the way-a cacophony of sounds coming from her phone.

“I’m leaving you in the car, since you can’t behave,” Rosalyn pointed at her phone and hopped out. The dog and its master were already in the pre-discussed location in the park, right next to the big elm Rosalyn used to climb as a kid. A middle-aged man, dressed in a sweater-vest, tie and khaki pants held a leash that attached to a gorgeous red irish setter.

“Good afternoon, Mable,” she said to the dog, petting its thick coat. “And good afternoon to you, Mr. Ranford.”

“Please, call me Hal.”

“Alright, Hal and Mable-are you two ready for your session?,” Rosalyn smiled at the pair and Mable responded with a wagging tail. Hal bobbed his head and straightened his tie.

“I’m a little nervous. I never know what to do with my hands,” he lifted them up, fingers together.

“Well, for starters, let’s not have ‘paddle hands’-just relax,” she brought his hands down to his side. “I’ll show you what to do. We’ll be done in no time.”

Rosalyn guided them to the best lighting next to the small pond at the edge of the park.

“My wife wanted this picture for her desk-she said it would be the best photograph ever of her two favorite people,” Hal said as they walked.

“Two favorite people?” Rosalyn smiled and moved Hal into position next to the dog with the forest in the background.

“I know, I know. Since our son moved away she’s really taken a shining to Mable.” He patted the dog’s head, looking more comfortable than his previous ‘paddle hand’ scenario.

After a few close-up shots, Rosalyn moved further away to get a few full-lengths but was battling a setting sun.

“We’re loosing sunlight, let’s move over to the other side of the pond.”

“You’re in charge,” Hal said.

“Hey-I’m having a garage sale this Saturday and have a bunch of name brand items your wife might be interested in,” Roslayn led them to a bench and had Hal sit down. Mable instinctively jumped onto the bench and laid her head on Hal’s knee.

“Also, I’m putting together a dog calendar featuring some of my favorite dog clients. Would you mind if I shot a few singles of just Mable?”

“Not at all. She’s much more photogenic than I am,” he said and straightened his tie again.

“Nonsense, you’re doing great.” Rosalyn grabbed the leash, leading Mable to a section of the pond filled with cattails. She took several of Mable ‘pointing’ and then a few more of her sitting. The dog’s red fur gleamed in the sunlight.

“She really is a gorgeous dog,” Rosalyn said to Hal over her shoulder.

“Thanks! How much are your calendars going to be? I bet my wife would love one.”

“If you have a dog in the calendar, you get one for free,” she said. “They’ll be done in a few months-I just need one more dog for the month of May. Mable will probably be my June dog.”

They finished the session and walked back to the parking lot. Hal and Mable loaded into his SUV and Rosalyn waved goodbye to Hal and Mable as they drove off. She jumped in her own car and picked up her phone to see the damage. 14 emails, 5 missed phone calls and 2 messages were displayed.

She opened her first email and read the opening line.

“This sale hopefully will be better than your last one. If not, I’m never coming back. Signed-Disappointed.”

“Geesh,” Rosalyn said and hit the delete button. The next one wasn’t any kinder.

“I came last week and all you had was a bunch of junk. Are you telling us the truth or is this some sort of scam because you just want people to come visit you? Please respond or I may not show up. Signed-Don’t waste my time.”

“Holy cow.” Rosalyn deleted that email and went through the rest. Only one was from someone with a legitimate question about the size of her belt. “This ought to be interesting.”

She pressed the voicemail button and listened to two messages back to back from Bonnie. The first just asked her to call back. She listened to the second message from her friend.

“Look, Ros. I know you really enjoyed that first sale. It was fun to get rid of all that stuff from you-know-who. But, I don’t think it’s a good idea to spend that kind of money just to get people to come back. I don’t want to mother you-I’m just concerned. Call me back and let’s grab coffee tonight.”

Rosalyn hit the “call back” button and started to pull out of the parking lot. Bonnie picked up on the first ring.

“I was starting to get worried about you,” her friend said.

“Sorry. I had a photo shoot and left my phone in the car,” Rosalyn didn’t offer the “why” behind leaving the phone in the car. “How does 7 sound for coffee tonight? I need to run home and freshen up.”

“Sounds good. Same place?”

“Same place.” Rosalyn hung up and pulled out onto the street.

Rosalyn washed her face and added some makeup. After pulling on a pair of jeans and her “going out” heels, she once again glanced at the receipt from the day’s earlier purchases. She sighed, but reassured herself that she would make the money back from that weekend’s garage sale. As she locked the front door behind her, she heard her name being called from the street.

“Hey, Rosalyn.” Micah waved from the street, Spartan at his side.

Her stomach did flip-flops. She loved the way her name sounded coming from his mouth.

“Hey, Micah. Hey, Spartan.” She patted the dog’s head and knelt down to be eye level with the pooch. “You know, I still need to photograph you. I have one month left to complete my calendar and you are just the dog for the job.”

“Anytime, Ros. Just let me know what day and I’ll make sure this stinky guy has had a bath.”

Ros. He called her Ros.

She liked that.

“How about tomorrow after the garage sale?” Rosalyn stood up, but hadn’t realized how close she had gotten to Micah while petting the dog. She was eye-to-eye with him and a mere 6 inches from his nose. She stepped back suddenly, loosing her balance on the curb.

“Dang heels,” she said, embarrassed as she caught herself on his outstretched arm. “I don’t know why I ever wear these things. I’m always tripping and making a fool of myself.”

“I don’t know,” he said and helped her stay upright. “They look pretty good on you. And they offer a great excuse for a man to be chivalrous if you do happen to trip.”

He smiled, but didn’t let go of her arm. Rosalyn loved that he used the word ‘chivalrous’ in every day conversation and smiled back at him.

“Where you headed?” He finally released his grip on her.

No-come back, Mr. Arm!

“Just off to have coffee with my friend Bonnie. She’s concerned I’m having too many garage sales.” She tried to maintain a steady voice, but knew her nerves were causing fluctuations from high to low and back to high again.

“Are you getting a cold?” Micah pressed his hand to her head.

Ah. There it is, he’s touching me again.

She leaned her head into the palm of his hand, praying it wasn’t greasy or clammy or both.

And, here is my disclaimer one more time-because I’m insecure about my skillz as a writer. I mean, does a real writer use “z’s” at the end of her words?

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects.
Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

*****

Garage Sale Addict (Young Adults)

“Bonnie, I think I want to do another sale.” Rosalyn clicked on the windshield wipers and put Bonnie on speakerphone.

“It’s Thursday, you realize that, right?” Bonnie, still at work, whispered back to her friend.

“I need something to get my mind off of Kyle. I’ve been a wreck all day. Every restaurant, every song, every couple I see holding hands reminds me of him.” Rosalyn took a quick right into a neighborhood and fumbled in her glove box for a tissue. A horn sounded behind her for several seconds.

“What are you doing?”

“Just driving around, trying to find something to do. I had two cancellations today because of the rain.” Rosalyn heard another line ringing in Bonnie’s office. “I’ll let you go, but are you in?”

“Sure. Six a.m. again?” Her friend whimpered.

“Let’s make it seven. And I’ll advertise it online, too.” Rosalyn pulled over to jot down a reminder. Another horn blared as the car whipped past her.

“You are terrorizing our entire town.” Her friend quietly laughed.

“They need to learn some patience.” Rosalyn pulled back into the street, glancing behind her before making her move.

“I think you need to learn how to use a signal.”
“Details, details. Thanks for being a good friend, Bonnie. I need something to distract my mind.” Rosalyn hung up after promising to provide doughnuts for her friend.

She turned the car around and headed for home; ready to sell anything she didn’t absolutely need.

“You’re selling a jar of pickles?” Her friend managed between her fits of laughter on the morning of the sale.

“I don’t need them. I don’t like pickles.” Rosalyn grabbed the jar and moved it away from Bonnie.

“Well, this definitely isn’t as spectacular as the last one. But, I’m sure we’ll sell most of this stuff the way you’ve priced things.” Bonnie sunk her teeth into a chocolate doughnut.

“Even if I don’t, it gave me something to do.” Rosalyn put a price tag on a vase filled to the brim with an old matchbook collection.

“A box of toothpicks, a meat grinder and a set of floral sheets next to an old hamster cage. Strange assortment, Ros.”

“Call it what you will. I call it therapy. Should we open? It’s 7 on the nose.”

“I’m surprised we don’t have anyone banging down the door like last time.” Bonnie wiped her fingers clean with a napkin.

“I know, it’s a bit of a let down, isn’t it?” Rosalyn opened her front door to reveal an empty lawn and an even emptier street.

“Maybe we should add a balloon to the sign?” Bonnie opened the junk drawer to fish out a pink ‘Burger Palace’ balloon.

“You do that and I’ll go check to make sure my ad is still up.” Rosalyn went after her laptop in the living room.

Once Bonnie came back inside, she joined Rosalyn on the couch.

“So, is the ad still up?”

Rosalyn nodded, frowning.

“Maybe we should we take the tables outside this time?”

“Good idea-more exposure.” Rosalyn jumped off the couch.

After propping open the front door, the two carried out the card table Rosalyn had borrowed from her neighbor the night before.

“This looks level, don’t you think?” Bonnie set the table down underneath the shade of the carport.

“You two need some help?” A man called from the street, a dog at his side.

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